Season 3 Head Canon (Until We Get the Real Deal)
by KaneTales
Summary: This story is not Season 3 of The 100, although it could be a Season 3 in some parallel dimension. Love this show, which is why I have to do something to bide the time until Season 3 starts. Please feel free to join me! The more the merrier :)
1. Chapter 1

"Heda!" a lone voice called out from the distance. Lexa's head came up as she recognized the voice as Jackson's, her best scout. From the sound of it, he was still at least a quarter of a mile away. Yelling.

Lexa stood from her throne, the fog of fatigue quickly being cleared by the rush of adrenaline in her system. She had sent Jackson over the truce boundary less than four hours ago. She'd told him to be silent…invisible. She had told him to observe the events at Mount Weather and report back everything that took place between the Mountain Men and the Sky People to her.

It wasn't even dawn yet, and Jackson was back—waking the entire camp with his cries from across the boundary. Anyone who crossed the truce boundary would no longer be Trikru. She had declared it so, and yet now Jackson was forcing her hand.

She had lost too many men the night before. Jackson was valuable. Lexa had no desire to lose him too, especially for no better reason than him making the choice to call out a few paces too soon.

What a fool.

Walking to the entrance of her tent, Lexa steeled herself, took one slow breath and stepped out into the pre-dawn light.

"Heda!" Jackson called out again, allowing Lexa to spot his approaching form.

Ryder appeared at Lexa's side, his bow in one hand and an arrow in the other.

"Hold," Lexa said. "Jackson clearly has a message he wants to deliver."

Ryder didn't budge. "But Jackson disobeyed your orders when he crossed the truce line."

"No," Lexa said, making sure she was visible in the torch light so Jackson would hopefully see her and realize that further yelling was useless. "He did exactly as instructed…well, until now, that is. I told him to be silent."

Ryder had hesitated in obeying her order, and she had responded by talking too much. Lexa was losing her grip on both herself and her men, it seemed. That would need to be remedied…after she spoke to Jackson.

Ryder returned the arrow to his quiver and said no more, but Lexa could feel the frustration wafting off of him. After last night, there weren't many among her crew who were pleased with her. That was fine. In fact, it was to be expected. It was not Lexa's job to be liked among her people. It was her job to keep them alive, and that's what she'd done.

Well, she hadn't kept all of them alive. She'd lost sixty-seven men the night before—more clansmen lost at the bottom of one hill than there were Sky People in Mount Weather. So when Emerson had come to her with the truce, Lexa had been forced to ask herself to ask a question she been avoiding all through the planning stages of the attack: How many of her Trikru should die so that 47 Sky People might live?

Together she and Clarke thought they had viewed things from every angle, and considered every scenario.

They'd been wrong.

Emerson's truce offering was something none of them could have foreseen. It was as Anya had always said: _Plans don't last long in battle._ Never had those sage words been more true.

When Emerson had stepped forward in truce , she had been forced to consider the promise to release all her people, unharmed. And when he'd promised to release the reapers and to never make any more in the future, and topped his offer off with the promise that his people would stay on their side of the river and never harass her people again?

There had been only one choice to make.

Dripping in the blood of her own men, Lexa had immediately understood the cunning underneath Emerson's offer: they had what they needed with the Sky People. The clan captives were now dead weight to them, which meant Cage would not hesitate in killing every single one of the clan prisoners. They were no longer needed. So Lexa could take her people, or they could be exterminated in an act of war.

Her choice.

Lexa had wanted to kill Emerson in that moment—to slip a knife into his neck and watch him drop as life dripped out of him. Instead, she was forced to allow him to stand smugly before her and make his offer with a distinct air of condescension.

He could afford to be arrogant, because he was making her an offer she couldn't refuse. And he knew it.

If Lexa refused, the loss of her people inside would be total. And the loss to her men outside Mount Weather? Substantial. The men flanking Lexa were dying in the dirt as they fought bullets with blades. Her army would eventually take high ground, but at great cost. The Mountain Men had some type of eyewear that allowed them to see in the night. They hid in high vantage points with their guns and shot from safety, while Lexa and her men had been blind and exposed.

Could Lexa sacrifice every last one of her captive people to save the 47 Sky Crew? Because those would be the only captives potentially left alive after her army pushed its way in—not Clarke's army. Lexa's army. When they finally breached, their reward would be to see everyone they fought to save slaughtered.

Lexa's people would have blamed her for the loss, and they would have been right to do so. The alliance she had fought so hard for would be dead. Fighting among the clans would commence. She would be killed along with everyone who was loyal to her. Hundreds would die…maybe thousands, all so that 47 of Clarke's friends might live.

Lexa had made the only choice she could have made for Trikru to survive and for peace to be maintained among the clans. Yet knowing this did little ease the absolute terror billowing inside her at seeing Jackson return to her so quickly.

Jackson would only be sprinting back so soon if the fighting was over and there was news. Big news.

As Jackson's running form made it over the last rise, Lexa heard warriors start to stir around her. The conversation she was about to have with Jackson would not be private. Lexa needed to keep that in mind when choosing her words.

When Jackson reached her, he fell to the ground at her feet—not out of humility, but exhaustion. By the looks of it, he had ran the entire way back to camp.

Lexa kept her expression stone. "And what news do you have for me, Jackson?"

The man heaved, his hair drenched with sweat as he pressed a hand against his lungs and looked up at her. "They're dead, Heda. All of them."

In an instant, the world tilted off its access like a toppling top. Lexa's stomach sank as if the earth beneath her feet had disappeared and given way to an endless abyss. Her stomach felt sick, her head felt light, and it was all she could do not to reach out and grip onto her guard's arm for support.

 _Chin squared,_ Anya's voice said in Lexa's mind. _Eyes strong. When a leader falters, her people falter._

Lexa pushed down the lump in her throat and spoke before it could pop back up. "The Sky People?"

Jackson shook his head vigorously. "No, Heda. The Mountain Men. They're all dead. Every last one of them. Men, women, children…all of them."

Lexa felt her lips part in shock as she let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. A wave of relief washed over her, followed by a double dose of nausea.

All were dead. Including the innocent.

"And the Sky People?" Lexa asked, doing her best not to let her shock show.

"They left in a caravan in the direction of Camp Jaha about two hours ago. I followed them part way to take a count, then turned back."

"And how many casualties did they suffer?" she asked.

Jackson looked up at her from the ground, delaying his answer as if he doubted it. "None, Heda. From what I can tell, no Sky People died in battle last night. Our dead still line the mountainside, but none among the dead are Sky People. The only dead I saw on all of Mount Weather were clans men and Mountain Men."

"Impossible," Ryder said from next to her, and Lexa had to agree with him.

The Mountain Men had mastered the art of killing or slaving any human within their reach. No one stepped into their midst and walked away unscathed. Lexa knew this. Tales of the Mountain Men were among some of Lexa's earliest memories. No one who approached the mountain survived. The finest scouts were turned into reapers only to return and deliver their own loved ones to the mountain, never to be seen again. All her life, Lexa had heard of how unassailable Mount Weather was and now they were all gone?

Annihilated by Clarke in a single night?

This wasn't the first time Clarke had proven she could flatten her opposition in one decisive blow. She'd done the same with 300 of Lexa's strongest warriors only a few weeks before. And now, tonight, Clarke had faced off against the most feared enemy in the region and rendered them obsolete. Lexa's people would be terrified, as would all the clans. They would all fear retribution for their abandonment of the Sky People.

It seemed that their fight was not over. As much as her people had feared the Mountain Men, they would now fear the Sky People more.

Lexa felt her hands grow sweaty and her breathing became shallow as the weight of her error settled in on her: She had aligned herself with the loser. With all she had lost in the eyes of her people by aligning with Clarke in the first place, Lexa had now lost double for losing faith in the final hour and striking a bargain with the devil himself—for choosing the Mountain Men as allies over Clarke.

Yes, her actions had still saved hundreds of lives, but no one would see that now.

They'd see a broken alliance and a new threat.

"The Mountain Men looked like they had been burned to death," Jackson said, interrupting her thoughts.

Burned to death? That definitely sounded like Clarke's calling card, Lexa thought as the charred bodies of her own men came to mind.

"Only there was no fire," Jackson added. "No smoke. Just burned bodies."

Radiation poisoning. When backed into a corner, Clarke had resorted to the plan she had wanted to avoid at all costs to save her people. And it seemed she had overcome her enemy with no more than Raven, Bellamy, Octavia, and her own sleeping army of 47 within Mount Weather.

In the end, Clarke had trusted her friends to deliver as promised and stayed the course…all but one: Lexa.

Apparently, the last mental picture Lexa had of a lone Clarke standing at the mouth of Mount Weather while all her people retreated behind her had not been the picture of devastated defeat Lexa had thought it to be. It had been the image of a brilliant strategist adjusting to new and unforeseen circumstances. It had been a mirror image of what Clarke had looked like each night in Lexa's tent as she studied the model of Mount Weather and talked out disaster scenarios and contingency plans.

Lexa had told Clarke she was wasting her time. She'd told her sleep was more important. She hadn't thought she'd been lying at the time. She'd been repeating the words her mentor had once counseled her. She'd been offering strength.

Well, good thing Clarke had trusted her instincts—her _feelings_ —and ignored Lexa's counsel on that one. She had needed one of those backup plans after all.

In the end, Lexa knew how important it was to Clarke that she had asked the strongest among her people to trust her with their lives, and they had. She had given her people impossible assignments, and they had each delivered on their promises. Abandonment had not been an option, and somehow Clarke had found a way to deliver on her promises as well.

How? How in the world had she done that, and done it so swiftly? Lexa had to know.

Still catching his breath on the ground, Jackson looked up at Lexa, awaiting her response. He wasn't the only one. Lexa could feel that many ears had tuned in and now waited on her words.

"I want 100 men," she commanded. "We leave for Mount Weather in ten minutes. We will retrieve our dead and burn the corpses of our enemies. There are to be no injured or ill among the 100 you gather for me. I want only fully able-bodied."

"Yes, Heda," Jackson said, rising to his feet and running toward the main camp.

Indra stepped out of the shadows behind Lexa. "I will be going with you. I know where our people are in the tunnels."

Lexa glanced at the bullet wound that still oozed blood into the cloth on Indra's chest. The woman was killing herself by not resting and allowing her body to heal. Still, Lexa gave her warrior a nod of assent.

"And me," a female voice said just before Echo stepped into the light of the torch.

Lexa looked over the emaciated warrior, noting visible cuts carved into Echo's body. "You need to stay here and rest."

"I've done nothing but rest and bleed for the past five months," Echo replied. "I must be useful. You will have questions when you see inside Mount Weather. If I go, I will have some of the answers."

There was no way Lexa could deny an offer like that. She gave another quick nod. "Be ready in ten minutes, or you will be left behind."

That decided, Lexa stepped back into her tent, motioning for Ryder to wait outside. Once past the curtain, she made it only a few steps before her knees started to give way and her chest flooded with stinging heat. She reached forward, her hands seeking out the war table that still held the model of Mount Weather she and Clarke had set up the day before.

Lexa felt her hands make impact with the edge of the table. Her hands gripped on, holding to the anchor point, but in the end the table did not keep her from falling to her knees much like Jackson just had. But whereas Jackson had fallen from exhaustion, Lexa couldn't define the spent feeling that was taking over her body. Her bones felt fluid and weak. Her lungs felt like they were breathing boiling air. Her head felt like it was suddenly being overcome by fever. Her throat felt dry, yet her eyes felt…well, Lexa still remembered what rising tears felt like. She blinked them back.

Lexa inhaled slowly and exhaled ever slower, forcing her body to calm itself. It was just fatigue hitting her all at once. That was all. She had only slept 5 of the past 48 hours. This was just her body letting her know. And while that didn't explain her racing heart or the desire to press her face into her hands and sob, it was enough to get Lexa to push up to her feet and gather herself.

She would sleep later. Right now she needed to get to Mount Weather.


	2. Chapter 2

Bellamy stood outside the medical bay, careful to stay out of sight. He needed to talk to Raven, but if he walked through the doors Abby would see him. And if Abby saw him, she would ask about Clarke.

What would he say? What could he say?

There was the truth, obviously. Clarke had just marched herself up into the mountain with no promise of returning. That was the truth, and Abby would learn it eventually, but did that mean she had to learn it when she was so frail? Would knowing Clarke was gone right now impact her recovery?

All Bellamy knew was how he would react if someone informed him that Octavia had cast herself out into the woods, never to return. He would be out of his bed in an instant and tracking her down.

But Abby couldn't get out of bed. He'd heard the doctors discussing the need to spend several days in bed, at a minimum, as she recovered from being drilled into and mined for the marrow in her bones.

There was nothing Abby could do for her daughter except lay in bed and feel helpless. Wasn't it enough to tell her about Clarke tomorrow and give Abby one day of thinking the worst was over? Would she forgive Bellamy for making that choice for her?

Did he care if Abby never forgave him?

Bellamy leaned against the wall, debating what to do next. For the moment, Kane seemed to be distracting Abby from the fact that her daughter was not at her side. Something was shifting between the two of them. Abby and Kane didn't seem fully…platonic anymore. Normally, Bellamy wouldn't care, but the timing was good. Abby would need someone to lean on when she got the news, and it looked like Kane was more than willing to be that someone.

Now if only Bellamy could talk to Kane one-one-one. He was going to need an ally in the man one way or another. If Bellamy told Abby the truth, she would need a shoulder to cry on. If they waited to tell her, Bellamy would need someone to help him stall and ease Abby's mind until she was out of the woods.

Those were two options, but in the past hour he had started considering a third.

Bellamy looked down at the berries in his hand. He'd gotten them in one of the celebratory tents. Someone had a batch, and Bellamy knew that several of the survivors had celebrated being alive by blissing out. He'd been invited to join them, but when he'd seen the berries he thought of how low they were on supplies in the medical bay. Painkillers were at a premium, and since Abby knew this, she was refusing them.

Yet she had to be in pain.

The berries could serve a dual purpose, really: painkiller and happy pill. They would help Abby check out mentally for a day or two and save Bellamy from having to make the choice of telling her or not telling her that her daughter was gone.

Or Bellamy could just take the berries himself and let his own mind check out for a bit.

It was something Clarke would never do, but Clarke wasn't there, was she? She'd bailed. It was just him here now doing his best to mop up the mess they'd made together. Part of him was mad at her for bailing, while another part of him wondered if he shouldn't have joined her.

Some quiet time in front of a fire didn't sound like the worst thing at the moment. Neither did a solid night's rest. It had been a while since he'd had one of those, which was maybe why he was considering drugging the village doctor.

Maybe dosing Abby was a decision he should sleep on before taking action. No…there was no maybe about it. He needed sleep. Everything would still be there for him to deal with when he woke up. He'd deal with it then.

Bellamy sent one last look Abby's way and moved away. He'd talk to Raven later. They all needed to rest.


	3. Chapter 3

Octavia's head rested against Lincoln's shoulder, her naked body half draped over him and half resting on their shared cot. It wasn't built for two, but they'd found a way to make due. She watched Lincoln's chest rise and fall with slow, even breaths and found that even though her mind was wide awake, her body didn't have the will to move an inch.

For a rare moment, Octavia was content. In a world where no one's survival was guaranteed from day to day, she had somehow been lucky enough to survive along with the only two people who really mattered to her: Lincoln and Bellamy.

Octavia's hands traced lightly over the bruises on Lincoln's ribs—the ones he'd received from his own people when he'd tried to stay and fight at Mount Weather. He'd fought to stay with her then, and when offered a chance to return, he'd taken it, despite the steep price.

Lincoln had sacrificed his world for her. Good thing she loved him, or the whole situation of him moving in could have turned really awkward, really fast. As it was, Octavia had every intention of making things right for Lincoln—for all of them.

Step one: Clarke had to go. Her days of calling the shots were done. Perhaps she'd made more good calls than bad calls, but in the end Clarke had proven that she was willing lie and play god, just like her mother had up on the Ark. No doubt everyone would be singing Clarke's praises for saving everyone at Mount Weather, but what about Tondc? What about the people there? She'd been willing to sacrifice them all—Octavia and her own mother included! The girl was clearly a sociopath.

So that would be Octavia's first point of action: meet with Clarke alone and tell her it was the end of the road. Octavia would keep the secret about Tondc if Clarke stepped down. If Clarke refused to step down, Octavia would tell everyone. Then she'd wait to see if Clarke tried to kill her for it. If she did? Well, then, Octavia wasn't so bad at killing herself these days. She could hand Clarke's ass to her in a fight, no problem.

Step 2 would be dethroning Lexa as the Trikru Commander. If Clarke was unworthy to lead, then Lexa was twice as bad. Clarke might be a sociopath, but Lexa definitely was. She had to go.

The good news was that it wouldn't be that hard. After their victory at Mount Weather, Trikru and all the other clans would be afraid of the Arkers. For generations Mount Weather had been squashing them like bugs, and a bunch of teenage Arkers had taken them all out in one night. There was no way they weren't freaking out.

Convincing them that Lexa's betrayal made peace iffy would quickly having them offer Lexa up on a tree as a sacrifice for peace.

Just like Lexa had demanded Finn's life for peace.

Karma was a bitch, and Octavia had every making sure Lexa learned that lesson firsthand.


	4. Chapter 4

As Lexa stepped into the prison where so many of her people had ended their days, a chill ran through her veins. Levels of cages unfit for animals now stood empty and abandoned, but the stench of the place bore testament of their treatment. It smelled of excrement, blood, vomit, and other things that choked Lexa's breath half way to her lungs.

 _You made a truce with the people who did this_ , a dark voice whispered in the back of Lexa's head.

Clarke hadn't. Clarke had seen what was happening and gone for reinforcements. And now, standing where Clarke had once stood and seeing what she had seen, Lexa had to confess the very thing she had wagered everything on the night before: Clarke would have not accepted a truce with the Mountain Men.

Having seen this place, Clarke would not have abandoned anyone to die here.

She would have fought.

Lexa sent a glance to Echo, noting that her guide had no difficulty breathing in the space. Echo was used to the conditions—a fact that sickened Lexa to her bones.

"Which cage was yours?" Lexa asked.

Echo gestured behind them. "We past it back there. I was across from the harvesting station where they bled us."

Which meant Echo had been forced to watch every victim. Lexa gave the answer a nod of acknowledgment, and looked over the expanse of cages. "Where was Anya kept?"

"Same row as me."

"Show me."

Echo nodded, walked down the row and took a right. A few steps later, she stopped and touched one of the many cages barely tall enough to sit in. "This one."

Lexa crossed over to the kennel, hating that it still stood intact. She would see it destroyed. "How did she escape?"

"Clarke," Echo said without hesitation. "I don't know how she knew Anya, but when she broke in here, Clarke seemed to be looking for her specifically. She went cage-to-cage until she found her."

Lexa listened carefully, looking for insight. She and Clarke had spent hours together, and Lexa believed Clarke to be an honest person overall, but whenever the topic of Anya came up, Clarke became evasive. When speaking of Anya, Clarke told half stories using vague words.

Why?

"Did they look friendly?" Lexa asked.

Echo hesitated. "I couldn't say. Anya clearly knew her. But they both stayed quiet and didn't draw attention to themselves. She trusted Clarke enough to follow her, I guess."

That was in line with what little Clarke had said on the matter, yet it did nothing to explain how Anya had gone from attacking Clarke to trusting her within a matter of days.

What was Lexa missing?

Lexa took a deep breath, fighting the urge to cover her nose and block some of the stench. If Echo could stand strong, so could she.

"Heda!" a voice called out from behind her. "We found it."

"Found what?" Echo asked.

"The escape route Anya and Clarke used," Lexa said, starting after her man. Echo followed.

They moved back through the main area, passing through the dining hall where her men were still loading up the bodies to drop down the chutes the Mountain Men had used to drop bodies down to the reapers. Lexa noted the progress of her men, but she didn't pause as she moved through the dining room-turned-open grave.

For a woman who killed with such reluctance, the results when Clarke did cross the line were cause for horrific reverence.

Lexa had seen death all her days—the blood, the cries, and the pain of it all. Death was generally a messy and gruesome business, but not when it was delivered via Clarke of the Sky People. When Clarke chose to strike, the effect was quick, efficient, and absolute. With a wave of her hand, Clarke had repeatedly proven her ability to reduce a sea of the living into a mass grave before they even knew what hit them.

Men. Women. Children. The carcasses of both the guilty and the innocent lay at Lexa's feet. An entire tribe that had survived by torturing and absorbing slaves of their own species. These people had tried to enslave Clarke's people in an effort to survive, and with one move Clarke had ensured her people would never be slaves again.

Clarke didn't do things half way.

Even seeing Clarke's aftermath left unburied before her, Lexa couldn't believe it. The fearsome Mountain Men had terrorized her people for generations. They had killed thousands of Lexa's people while always remaining impervious to attack. Lexa had been the first commander to reach any level of truce with these savages, and she'd done so by passing the curse of them off to Clarke and her people to bear the burden of.

And in one night Clarke had annihilated them.

Annihilation. That was what lay at Lexa's feet. Not defeat. Sudden and immediate extinction. That is what Clarke left in her wake when faced with war.

And Lexa had betrayed her.

Perhaps more importantly, Lexa had abandoned Clarke in an aftermath they had created together. She'd washed her hands of it and left all the blood on Clarke.

There would be payback for that, and it would be delivered by Clarke. Lexa had to be ready for that.

Lexa kept pace with her man as they reached the reaper tunnels and started through the maze. Lexa heard the water first, then she smelled it, until they made the turn that put her ankle deep in a small stream of water that clearly had an outlet. Her man led her to the final turn, then gestured to the outlet.

"This is it, Heda."

Lexa stepped forward, walking to the edge and feeling a hit of vertigo as she glanced over the edge. The drop had to be over 100 feet, straight down.

Echo stepped up next to her, peering over the edge. "Here?"

Lexa nodded.

Echo peered over the drop-off point, looking for a handhold. "How?"

Lexa swallowed back her vertigo. Heights had never been her specialty. "They jumped."

It felt good to see that Echo looked as unnerved at the thought of jumping as Lexa felt.

"Well, I can see why Clarke only took Anya then," Echo said. "We would have jumped, too, but I think most of us would have drowned. Most of us could barely stand, not to mention swim after a jump like that."

Lexa let the vision of Anya and Clarke taking the leap settle in before she turned back to her man. "Jaxom."

"Yes, Heda."

"We will not be burning the bodies of the Mountain Men. Transport them down here and throw them off. The beasts can eat their flesh, if it's any good."

"Yes, Heda."


	5. Chapter 5

When Monty stepped into the tent, Jasper was curled up on a cot, facing away. He was awake. Monty could tell by Jasper's breathing. He just wanted everyone to think he was asleep.

"You've got to be hungry, man," Monty said softly, eyeing the untouched lunch he'd left six hours earlier to the side of Jasper's cot. "You haven't eaten since Mount Weather."

Nothing.

"Look, I know you don't forgive me," Monty said. "What went down at Mount Weather was…a tragedy. But you didn't see what I saw, Jasper. They weren't going to compromise. Ever. You saw what they were doing to all of us, and there was no talking them out of it. They were ready to kill us, or die trying."

"Not all of them!" Jasper yelled, still looking away.

Monty nodded. "Maybe not all of them. Definitely not Maya, but everyone with power…everyone with a gun. And the rest of them were willing to sit at banquet dinners and politely eat cake while we were killed one-by-one. If you want me to say that I think I made the wrong choice, I can't do that, Jasper. I'm glad we made it out, and not the people who have spent nearly a century harvesting and living off of other humans."

"Get out!"

"I am sorry about Maya, Jasper. I really am."

Jasper sat up so quickly that Monty took a step back in surprise.

"Get out!" he roared, grabbing the pile of nuts from his lunch and throwing them at Monty. "You killed them all! You killed everyone!"

"No," Monty said calmly. "The air did. Evolution did."

"Oh, is that how you justify it?" Jasper sneered, moving across the tent to come face-to-face with Monty.

"Yes," Monty said softly. "That's exactly how I justify it. They needed to harvest us to live, and I didn't let them."

"No, you killed them!" Jasper cried, his voice cracking as tears pushed their way out of his eyes.

Monty took a slow breath, knowing there was nothing he could say that would make his friend feel better, but trying anyway. "What happened there was horrible and could have been avoided if Maya had been their leader. But she wasn't, Jasper."

Jasper clutched his stomach as the tears hit him. "All I needed was one more minute, and—"

"And what?" Monty said, gripping his arm. "You would have had time to lunged at Cage with a knife while those guards shot you down? You didn't have a chance, Jasper."

Jasper shrugged Monty's hand off his arm. "You could have let me try!"

Monty shook his head. "You weren't the only one in trouble, Jasper. Octavia was about to go down, and Abby didn't have much time left either. Plus Emerson was hooking explosives to the door and trying to take us out. There were a whole lot of moving parts in play—including the fact that Maya was caught helping Octavia. If we had lost, they probably would have killed her anyway."

"You don't know that!"

"No," Monty said. "I don't. But I know that nobody won at Mount Weather. We all lost, Jasper. No one's celebrating what happened. We're all mourning."

Jasper's eyes came up to look at Monty, tears giving way stone. "Mourning?"

"Yes, Jasper. We are."

Jasper looked like he wanted to say something. His mouth even parted to say it, but in the end he just turned and walked back to his cot. "Just leave me alone, okay? I don't need your concern or your food."

It wasn't true. Monty knew it, but in the end it wasn't his decision. It was Jasper's.

"Fine," he said, and left.


	6. Chapter 6

Looking at the jagged mass of metal that had impaled the mountainside, Echo marveled that any of the Sky People had survived their fall back to earth from space. They all looked normal enough, but based on their ship alone, there was every indication that Sky People should not be underestimated when it came to their ability to survive.

Echo could only pray that the Sky People still considered themselves allies to Trikru.

The unlocked gate ahead was the first positive sign that the Sky People were not prepping for war. Camp Jaha wasn't locked down, but that didn't stop the guards from coming to attention as Echo approached on horseback. They clearly recognized her as a grounder, but had yet to aim their guns. That was another good sign. Yet as she drew closer, the guards stepped forward to block her from entering.

"What do you want?" the older of the two men called out when she was a stone's throw away.

"I would like to speak with Bellamy Blake," she called back without stopping her horse.

The older guard got on his radio. Another good sign. He didn't have standing orders to send anyone away. No one stood and asked her to impale herself on a spear to prove her desire to speak to a leader. Given how many holes Echo had acquired recently and how much she'd bled, she was grateful for that last courtesy.

"Leave your horse tied out here with us," the guard called out to her. "Bellamy will meet you and escort you in."

When she dismounted, the younger guard took the reins of the horse. He didn't smile or offer a courtesy, and the clench of his jaw told Echo what all the Trikru suspected: the Sky People were not happy.

Echo said nothing to either man and they said nothing back for several awkward minutes until Bellamy arrived. She was watching for him, so she spotted him first as he stepped out of the shelter of the ship and into the sun. His eyes were downcast in thought and he looked stressed, but no angry. It gave Echo hope.

He raised his gaze her way, his eyes squinting against the sun as he searched for who had summoned him. He seemed to recognize her immediately, his back straightening and his steps getting bigger. Bellamy wasn't afraid of her. Yet another good sign.

Bellamy's eyes looked her over as he approached, and Echo tried not to feel self-conscious. Not long ago, she'd been a strong and proud warrior. Now she could barely walk. She hated feeling weak, and part of her hated that Bellamy had seen her at her weakest and most defeated. He'd seen her when she'd spoken and acted like a coward…when all her courage had failed her and all she knew was fear. Yet that fact was the very reason Echo was the best one to speak to Bellamy on behalf of the Commander.

Bellamy knew the Trikru's pain. He had seen it firsthand and gotten a taste of it when he'd been hung up and bled himself. So when Echo looked him in the eye and said she had no fight with him, he would believe it. And if he believed it, maybe he could convince Clarke and other members of the leadership the Commander had betrayed.

"You shouldn't be here," Bellamy said softly as he stepped to Echo's side. "You should be resting."

She tried for a smile and failed. "I will rest when I know peace can remain between our people after last night."

His eyes looked her over, seeming to ignore her words. "You're dehydrated," he said. "Let's get a drink."

Echo didn't move, her eyes looking at the crashed ship with dread. "Outside?"

Bellamy stopped and looked at her again. "Excuse me?"

She nodded toward the ship. "Can we not go in that? After Mount Weather, I'm not a big fan of—"

"Of course," Bellamy said, saving her from having to finish her confession. "We have an outside common area. We'll stay outside."

Echo nodded and fell in step next to him. He slowed to keep pace with her. "How are things at your camp?" he asked her, his voice soft so that only she could hear.

She answered in kind. "I'm certain it has been a day of rest."

His eyes narrowed on her. "But you don't know?"

Echo shook her head, noting some hard glares from Sky People walking the opposite direction. "I returned to Mount Weather with the Commander to help her understand what happened to our people there."

Bellamy's eyes looked concerned. "So you haven't rested since last night?"

Echo hesitated before shaking her head. "My spirit couldn't rest when I knew I could be of help."

Bellamy seemed to understand that and they took several steps in silence before Echo jumped in with both feet.

"The Commander is very pleased that you all made it out safely."

"Even though she left us for the slaughter?" he replied, his nostrils flaring in anger. "Is that why you're here? Are you the canary meant to test conditions?"

Echo wasn't sure how to respond since she didn't understand the reference. They continued to walk in silence until tables came into view and Echo scented liquor in the air.

Bellamy took a slow breath, again keeping his voice low. "If you're here to see if our next course of action is to arm up and march your way, I can tell you that no one is talking like that…yet."

"That's good," she said as Bellamy held up two fingers to a man by the table and pointed to the table in front of them before gesturing for her to sit. He let her lean on him as she sat on the stool, then sat across from her at the table.

"Right now, families are reunited and the injured are being attended to," he said. "The last thing anyone wants is war, but that doesn't mean any of us trust the Commander anymore, either."

Echo met his eyes. "Understood. But do you still consider us allies?"

He seemed to consider that, holding his words until two full cups were placed in front of them. Bellamy gave the other man a nod before turning his attention back to Echo when the man departed.

"Allies? No. Your Commander's actions made it clear that we can never trust her again in a side-by-side relationship. So in that sense, we are not allies." His eyes searched hers with a transparency that left Echo unsettled. This man didn't hide the pain he felt at the Commander's betrayal. There was no grandstanding with the Sky People, it seemed. Life had not trained them to hide their hearts, which made it harder for Echo to hide hers.

Echo cleared her throat. "That is unfortunate."

Bellamy nodded. "But I feel confident saying that no one here wishes to be enemies of Trikru either. We don't want to fight you, but we're not feeling all that friendly either. Does that make sense?"

Echo nodded slowly, turning the cup in front of her with her fingers.

"Drink," Bellamy said, following his own advice.

Echo didn't need to be asked twice. She drank the water in one pull, immediately craving more when she put the cup down.

"Let me get a pitcher," Bellamy said before standing and walking to the main table. He was back in seconds with a large container of water.

"Thank you," she said as he poured her another cup.

Bellamy nodded. "Tell your Commander we need time for tempers to settle. We have no anger against Trikru collectively. They were following orders. But Lexa?" His eyes grew dark—terrifyingly so, but Echo had seen that look in Bellamy's eyes before when he choked the life out of a guard back at Mount Weather.

"Yes?" Echo prompted, snapping Bellamy out of his murderous state.

Bellamy blinked and the dark look faded ever so slightly before he looked her in the eye again. "No one wants to see your Commander," he said with conviction. "And if she does show her face here then I can't promise that it won't start a war between our people. She needs to stay away and see to your people. She turned her back on us at Mount Weather, so she can keep her back to us now."

Echo nodded slowly, her eyes taking inventory of the honest tension in his body as he restrained himself.

The Commander was right to worry about retribution for her actions. Bellamy was surely the most sympathetic of the Sky People, and he looked as if he might kill the Commander if given the chance. Yet she had to ask the next question…she had promised the Commander that she would.

"And does Clarke feel the same?" Echo said, watching Bellamy closely as the darkness in his eyes doubled and his hand clenched his cup. His breathing quickened even as a muscle in his jaw jumped. For a moment Echo thought he might punch something, maybe even her, but he regained control as quickly as he'd lost it.

"You can tell Lexa, with certainty, that Clarke will not be meeting with her again," he said through his teeth. "If there are to be formal negotiations between our people in the future, Clarke will not be involved. Your Commander made sure of that when she betrayed Clarke last night."

Echo nodded. "I'll make sure she knows."

Bellamy gave a quick nod. "We all need to heal up a bit, Echo. You need to heal up. So how about you tell your Commander to send you back in another week. It will give everyone a chance to heal up a bit without letting things going unsettled too long without."

"That's good," she agreed. "A follow-up meeting will help quiet those who may insist that we would be wise to fear retaliation from your people."

Bellamy shook his head and sent her a sad smile. "If there is one thing to remember about my people, it's that we'll do anything we can to find a diplomatic solution first. We will always talk before we fight."

Echo nodded, downing her cup of water and standing. "I will say as much to the Commander. But…"

Bellamy raised an eyebrow. "But?"

"I will also remind you that the truce with your people was initially extended based on the fact that your people offered to help us turn Reapers back into men. We have found thirteen Reapers already, one of which is Indra's mate." She searched Bellamy's eyes and found them unreadable. "I know you have your own sick to attend to, but if you could send a healer to show us how to help these men before they die, my people would be very grateful."

Bellamy stood and gave a quick nod. "Wait here. Let me consult the counsel and see if we have anyone who can escort you back home and help tonight."

"It would be appreciated," Echo said, surprised at his willingness to act so quickly. It was almost suspicious, which brought her training to the forefront. Suddenly she realized that their entire conversation could have been a stall up until this moment for his crew to surround and ambush her and she was only now just realizing it. Her training screamed to turn and face off against the covert ambush, and yet her inborn instincts kept her eyes on Bellamy. Something deep inside her sensed that Bellamy had no intention of harming her.

She was safe with him. His desire to help was sincere, and Echo bet her life on that instinct as she kept eyes on Bellamy.

"Wait here. I'll be right back," he said, moving away. And Echo watched every step he took until he was out of sight.


	7. Chapter 7

It was somewhat ironic that on the Ark Clarke had all the colors in the world to draw with while everything in her environment had been shades of grey. Now, on earth, her world was filled with vibrant shades of every color and Clarke had only one black pen to capture them all with.

Life was like that, it seemed. It didn't like to put all the pieces in one place for you.

Clarke had dropped by Finn's secret bunker before heading up the mountain for some supplies. That had been a punch in the gut, but luckily she had been too numb to feel much of it. A month ago, she had sacrificed Finn for an alliance with the grounders, and what had it gotten her? If Clarke counted what she'd just taken from the bunker, then she'd gotten a lost soul, a backpack, a blanket, a meal's worth of food, some extra bullets, and a pen and notebook out of the deal.

Not exactly the trade she'd been looking for.

Nothing would have been a fair trade for Finn's life, but what went down at Mount Weather definitely gave the shaft to his legacy. He deserved more, and he never would have died at all if Clarke hadn't been with him. If they hadn't been a couple, Finn never would have gone looking for her, and ended up in Tondc. He wouldn't have lost and killed those "innocents."

Innocents? Yeah, right. Clarke was beginning to think that there was no such thing as innocence on planet earth. The grounders could talk all they want about how the people who died weren't soldiers, but Finn hadn't been a soldier either. He'd been a scared kid with a gun, and Clarke knew from experience that the people of Tondc had no hesitations when it came to killing. They'd been willing to slowly slice Raven to bits, and hadn't blinked when they'd been handed Gustus—one of their own—to kill instead.

Innocent? What a joke. They were all killers. Every single one of them.

Knowing what she knew now, Clarke would have negotiated for Finn's life very differently, if given a second chance.

Instead, she was sitting under a grouping of trees drawing in a notebook she'd taken from Finn's bunker. The sun was inching toward the horizon, and Clarke tried to ignore the chill. The days were getting colder. It reminded Clarke of her days on the Ark…that bone-cold chill that saturated the air and steel until it seeped into your core. Clarke had only spent a few months under the sun, but her body had already adapted. It liked the heat and instinctively shivered against the oncoming night chill.

She needed to get a fire going, but given her iffy skills at getting a fire going, it was hard to know whether she should get started while there was still light, or wait a bit longer. She couldn't be sending smoke up into the sky while it was still light out. It would be like putting up a flare to show her location. She needed to wait, but not wait so long that she couldn't see what she was doing.

Clarke's hand made the decision to delay a few more minutes for her, sketching out the face she couldn't get out of her mind. Her current sketch was of Octavia, sitting solo at a campfire, body tense and eyes betrayed. It was the moment just before Clarke had confirmed Octavia's suspicions about Tondc.

Clarke hadn't known Octavia long, but she respected the girl. Octavia was loyal and honest. Clarke wasn't.

As Clarke hand used multiple strokes to ink in Octavia's grounder war paint, Clarke realized she felt envy for Octavia. Yes, there was Octavia's obvious beauty, but more than that she envied the black-and-white lens Octavia viewed the world through. There was right and there was wrong, and Octavia always fought for what was right. Death didn't faze her, and neither did injury. Octavia would fight an opposing army solo if she had to, then give them all a single-finger salute before she drew her last breath.

How could Clarke not respect that?

Octavia was fearless. She was brave, and she always led with her heart and stuck with her pack.

Clarke was none of those things.

Fear plagued Clarke. Every moment that passed was a moment where a small miscalculation on her part could lead to the death of everyone she knew. Clarke couldn't be loyal—Finn's death was proof of that. She had to be smart first and loyal second.

Like Lexa.

Clarke's hand stopped moving at the thought of the Commander, her body filling with a mix of rage and shame. In all the things Clarke had been betting on to go right, she had been most confident in her alliance with Lexa.

She'd completely miscalculated.

In a way, Clarke still couldn't believe how things had played out on Mount Weather. Everyone present had approved of her plan. All the grounder leaders had shown their support and shown up ready for a fight. Then they'd all left before the fight really even began.

On Lexa's orders.

Once Clarke got the grounders what they wanted, they had all taken what Clarke and Bellamy and Raven and all of the Sky People had handed to them, and abandoned them all to die. Every last grounder had been willing to use and abandon not only Clarke, but everyone from the Ark.

And Clarke hadn't seen it coming. It hadn't even been a blip on her radar.

Now, in retrospect, Clarke could see how she _didn't_ see it coming. It was all so clear in hindsight that Clarke couldn't imagine how it could have played out any differently.

Of course Lexa took the win. Duh. She'd done the exact same thing with Clarke after Clarke had cooked 300 of Lexa's warriors alive. Lexa had come to Camp Jaha with the intent to slaughter them all, but the moment Clarke proved the Arkers had something the grounders needed, Lexa had extended peace. The dead were gone, and Lexa was quick to move on to protect the interests of the living.

The Mountain Men knew that. They'd been spying the whole time, which was why they'd used Clarke's exact same tactic with Lexa the night of the siege. They knew it would work because they'd just seen Clarke pull it off.

Clarke had literally taught the Mountain Men how to handle Lexa.

How had Clarke not anticipated that? How had she been so blind?

Clarke gazed down onto Octavia's likeness on the page. "You're lucky," she said, not caring that she was talking to herself. "You don't think about things like this. You just act on what you know to be right, no matter the consequences."

Clarke really wished she could be like that.


	8. Chapter 8

Octavia had been watching for the past day, but she hadn't caught sight of Clarke yet. The girl was laying low, which wasn't really her style. Normally Clarke was the first prove her value by helping with the injured. But not since Mount Weather.

Something was up.

Octavia lurked in the shadows, waiting for her brother to exit his tent. When he did, she fell in step right next to him.

"So where's your girlfriend?" she snipped.

To Bellamy's credit, he actually looked confused. That was a good sign. "Girlfriend?"

Octavia glared up at him. "The Almighty Clarke."

She watched her brother's jaw clench as he focused ahead and kept walking. "Clarke isn't here."

"Not here?" Octavia said. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that she walked back with us from Mount Weather, but then she just kept on walking."

Octavia felt her eyebrows lift in surprise, but once the news settled in she could only think of one thing to say. "Good."

Bellamy's dark eyes focused on her. "Good? After all Clarke's done, you can say that?"

"Yes!" Octavia said. "After all she's done, maybe it is for the best that she's no longer with us."

Bellamy stopped in his tracks. "She saved us, Octavia."

"Yeah, well she killed more innocent people than she saved in the end," Octavia sneered. "Pardon me if I don't find that very heroic."

Bellamy's lips pressed together as he looked down at her. "You're talking about Tondc?"

"Of course I am."

He shook his head. "I know that she had every intention of saving that city after I talked to her, Octavia. We don't know what changed her mind, and we don't know what either of us would have done in her shoes."

"Yes," Octavia said. "We do. I would have never made her choice. You would have never made her choice."

"Neither would Clarke."

Octavia laughed. "Well, not to shatter the pedestal you and everyone else seem to have Clarke raised up, that's exactly what she did, Bellamy. She let 250 people die in Tondc."

Bellamy shook his head. "It wasn't her decision to make."

"Like hell it wasn't," she roared back. "You weren't there, Bellamy. You didn't seen her ride in. You didn't see her run straight to Lexa and disappear. Clarke knew what was coming and she abandoned us all."

Bellamy's eyes darkened as he glanced around to see if anyone was listening in. When he was certain their conversation was still private, he looked back at her. "Do you really think Lexa let Clarke make that decision?"

"Please. Since when does Clarke let others make decisions for her?"

"Since when has Clarke ever walked into a grounder camp and started shouting orders?" Bellamy retorted. "From what you described, it sounds like Clarke did exactly what she's done every time she's tried to talk sense into the grounders. She showed Lexa the respect of going to her first and doing her best to sway her. When she couldn't sway her, she did her best to minimize collateral damage."

He had a point. "Well, it was the wrong choice."

Bellamy's jaw clenched and he shook his head. "It was the right one."

Octavia rocked back on her heels, her brother's words hitting her like a blow. "I can't believe you're on her side on this one."

Bellamy took a slow breath. "Think about it, Octavia. How many of our people—Ark people—were in Tondc? Less than ten? And how many grounders were there in Tondc when the missile hit? Hundreds? Thousands?"

Octavia felt her blood run cold as realization dawned on her.

"The decision to sound a warning and alert the grounders was not Clarke's to make," Bellamy said. "You and I both know that Lexa made the call to sacrifice her own people. The decision to hand the Mountain Men a win was Lexa's, and the 250 who died were her people."

He was right. Octavia had been too angry to see it before, but Bellamy was exactly right. The tactical call in Tondc had been Lexa's to make.

The realization didn't make Octavia feel any better.

"I don't think Clarke is perfect," Bellamy said, softening his voice. "Nor do I have her up on a pedestal like you seem to think, but what happened in Tondc was not her call. Clarke's mind doesn't think that way, and we both know it."

Maybe Octavia did know it, but she didn't have to say it. Instead, she stepped away from her brother. "You wouldn't have let that bomb drop on those people without warning them. Neither of us would have."

"Neither of us were in on the meeting with Lexa," he countered. "We don't know what we would have done."

"I do," Octavia sneered before turning on her heel and stalking away and putting some space between her and Bellamy. She needed it to process what he'd just dumped in her lap.

The good news of it all? Clarke was out of the way…although Octavia didn't feel the rush of gratification she'd been expecting. Instead she felt a bit sick.

Clarke was out on the mountain? Alone? That wasn't good, and yet Bellamy had let her go knowing that there was every chance that Clarke would die out there. Octavia might be mad at Clarke, but that was no way for anyone to die…and it was Lexa who had pushed Clarke out there.

Lexa had ordered the attack on the dropship that had resulted in 300 dead. Lexa had demanded Finn's blood, prompting Clarke to step in to make a mercy kill. Lexa had abandoned them all on the threshold of battle, cornering Clarke into eradicating the Mountain Men.

Yes, Clarke had done horrible things since coming to earth, but in each case it had been the same person cornering Clarke into taking action and forcing her to live with the fallout.

Lexa.

And in Octavia's mind, it was passed time for that bitch to go down.

As for Clarke? Lincoln would know how to find her.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** If you want more FREE reads by me? Check out my original series called THE UNDERGODS (by Eva Kane). It's free on Smashwords and Kobo, and you can price match it on Amazon. Rated 18+.


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